


Back Where You Belong

by PockySquirrel



Category: Power Rangers in Space
Genre: Canonical Trauma, Gen, PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-12
Updated: 2018-01-12
Packaged: 2019-03-03 19:36:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13348086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PockySquirrel/pseuds/PockySquirrel
Summary: Zhane awakens from cryo-stasis and finds that his best friend isn't quite the same person he left behind.





	Back Where You Belong

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rivulet027](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rivulet027/gifts).



It didn’t take long for Zhane to notice that Andros had changed.

 

He saw it the second his best friend powered down and looked at him for the first time since the injury that had forced him into cryo-stasis, and it stole the breath from his lungs. It was one thing to be told that he had been asleep for two years; that both KO-35 and Eltar had fallen, that Zordon himself was in the hands of Dark Specter, that Zordon’s fate and the fate of the galaxy hinged on the mission undertaken by Andros and his new teammates. But it was looking Andros in the eyes and seeing the combined weight of every single day that had comprised those two years staring back at him that really made Zhane acutely aware of just how much time he had missed.

 

They had been the same age, but Andros was older than Zhane now, and he looked it. Physically, the changes were small. His hair was a bit longer. He’d put on a bit of muscle, not much, but enough that his uniform fit tighter across his chest. He hadn’t actually gotten any taller, but the way he had taken to carrying himself - back straight, shoulders tight - made him look like he had. He looked, Zhane thought, the way a Red Ranger should. The way he always had, but even more so.

 

Zhane guessed he should have felt comforted by that. Glad to have such a powerful ally at his side. But there was still something about those eyes that unsettled him, and the way Andros’ smile no longer seemed to reach them.

 

***

 

Andros had always had a temper, but it was jarring to Zhane, how quick he was to anger these days. He liked Ashley, okay, that was understandable. And seeing Zhane get close to her had him feeling jealous and possessive. That was understandable, too. And Zhane was prepared to back off, apologize, maybe even tease him a little about this big obvious crush that he was taking so seriously. But the anger in Andros was burning too fiercely to allow for that. He pulled Zhane off of a mission because of it. Zhane was taken aback. The Andros he knew, temper or not, would have never allowed his personal feelings to interfere with Ranger business. And that, ultimately, was what made him decide to go against Andros’ orders and join the fight.

 

They smoothed things over after that, and Zhane was more than willing to shrug it off and forget about it. Things were different now, after all. Andros was still getting used to having Zhane around again, and Zhane was still getting used to the rest of the team. Andros was probably just adjusting along with the rest of them, he thought.

 

Until it happened again.

 

Letting the team believe he was dying, he had only intended that as a prank. Not a particularly good prank, in retrospect, or a particularly nice one, but a prank nonetheless. And the Earth Rangers seemed to have understood that his intentions were benign. They were quick to forgive him and even quicker to prank him back. Once they were even, it was water under the bridge.

 

Andros had cornered him in a corridor and grabbed him by the front of his jacket, jaw clenched, eyes burning.

 

“Don’t you ever pull a stunt like that again,” he growled, the threat in his voice deadly serious. 

 

And just like that, he let go and stormed off before Zhane even had a chance to ask a question or offer an explanation, leaving him wondering what the hell had just happened. 

 

Maybe the past two years had changed Andros even more than he thought.

 

***

 

Before Zhane had gone into stasis, he and Andros trained together every day. They were a dead even match for one another in both strength and skill, and whenever they sparred, unless one of them got in a lucky shot on the other, the match would end in a stalemate.

 

The first time Zhane sparred with Andros since the end of his forced hibernation, Andros took him to the mat in under a minute.

 

Zhane had brushed it off as being out of practice, and Andros had gone along with it, even though both of them knew that wasn’t the case. Time had stopped for Zhane; both physically and mentally, two years ago might as well have been yesterday. But while time had stopped for Zhane, it had marched on for Andros, and in the interim it seemed like the Red Ranger’s entire martial style had changed. A couple more days, a couple more spars, and a couple more losses later, Zhane’s wounded pride demanded that he look into this phenomenon further, so he could figure out a way to counter it and bring his losing streak to an end. 

 

He had noticed the difference in battle as well, something in the way Andros interacted with the rest of the team that felt off to him, but that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. It was hard to get a good read on it when he was fighting alongside them, not without losing his focus on the enemy. So he was left to stew about it on his own once the battle had ended, until DECA, as if sensing his consternation, had politely reminded him that the Megaship automatically made and archived tactical recordings of all the Rangers’ battles.

 

When he went to review the recording of their latest fight, TJ was already there. Zhane wasn’t surprised by that; TJ was Blue, after all, and had made himself right at home in the role of their team’s strategist. TJ, in turn, was more than a little surprised by Zhane’s sudden interest. He was used to being the only one who bothered going back and watching the footage after a battle. But he was glad for the company nonetheless, and all the more when Zhane confided the reason he was watching.

 

“You know, I had been wondering about that, too,” TJ said. “Before I found out about you, I always thought he fought the way he did because he just wasn’t used to having teammates. But that wasn’t it, because he had you. And now you’re telling me he wasn’t always like this?”

 

“He wasn’t,” Zhane affirmed. “But it’s hard to explain the difference.”

 

“Maybe you don’t have to,” TJ suggested. “Depending on how far back these archives go.”

 

Zhane understood what he was getting at, and scrolled through the files until he found what he was looking for, a recording from a mission he and Andros had gone on just days before KO-35 was invaded. 

 

“This one should be pretty good,” he said, and called it up on the viewscreen.

 

They watched it together in silence, the Red and Silver Rangers fighting side by side. TJ’s attention was rapt, mental gears turning almost audibly. Zhane, for his part, had thought his memory of the fight was vivid enough, but seeing it again from this perspective enhanced his own recollection to the point that he felt like he was reliving it. Immediately it hit him what it was that had changed in how Andros fought, and his heart sank as he realized it. 

 

Back then, the two of them had fought as one unit. Side by side, back to back, protecting one another but also looking out for themselves. Now, Andros was always the first into the fray, trying to get in between his team and the enemy. The other Rangers fell into his orbit, compensated for it, covered him without making it obvious that they were doing so. Zhane realized that he himself had started falling into the same pattern without realizing it, and that’s what it was that felt so off. But what could easily be taken as a new boldness on Andros’s part, wasn’t that at all. It was recklessness. He could pull off the moves he did, make the decisions he made, because he had stopped prioritizing his own safety when he fought. 

 

He wasn’t fighting like he was used to being alone. He was fighting like he was used to having nothing to lose.

 

The next time Zhane sparred against Andros, he won. But he found no satisfaction in his victory.

 

***

 

Zhane started paying closer attention to Andros after that, and he didn’t like what he saw. Lots of little things that all added up. The way he flinched when the alarm went off. How he always seemed to be the first one awake on the ship, and the last to go to bed. He looked tired, Zhane noticed. He never said a word about it, and he never made it obvious. But the signs were there. 

 

He asked the other Rangers about it, discreetly. Like TJ, they all had their concerns. Ashley, especially. But their worries all revolved around Andros being too hotheaded, Andros being too prone to doing things on his own, without help. They figured that was just Andros being Andros. They didn’t know how different he was. They couldn’t. They hadn’t been there. 

 

Confronting Andros himself about it was easier said than done, and any overture Zhane made to do so was skillfully dodged. “Are you all right?” was met with an “I’m fine” that Zhane didn’t believe. “We need to talk” was met with an “About what?” said in a casual tone but accompanied by eyes so wary and dangerous that Zhane had, bluntly, chickened out. And after that, as ridiculous as it seemed, Zhane felt like Andros started actively avoiding him. It was impossible to find the Red Ranger when he didn’t want to be found, and even harder to get him alone. 

 

Frustrated, worried, desperate for answers, and utterly exasperated after once again failing to find Andros where he expected him to be, Zhane decided to try a different tactic.

 

“All right, DECA. I give up. Where is he?”

 

“Andros has requested that I deny access to any and all inquiries concerning his whereabouts,” the computer replied.

 

Zhane was floored. “Are you kidding me? Doesn’t he realize how dangerous that is? What if there was an emergency?” 

 

“I have made him aware of these concerns. He acknowledged and still chose to override the related security protocols.”

 

“He overrode-- of course he did.” Zhane pinched the bridge of his nose and huffed out a sigh. “Because yelling at me, avoiding me, and endangering himself every time we fight wasn’t enough. I just wish I could understand why he’s being like this. It’s like I don’t even know him anymore.”   
  


DECA said nothing in response, but the nearest computer console began to emit a familiar, repetitive bleeping sound. Zhane went to investigate and found that the system had called up several files from the ship’s security archive. His first attempt to access the files was denied. Someone - and it had to have been Andros - had protected them, even though Zhane’s security clearance as a Ranger should have been enough. He grumbled under his breath and guessed the password. Guessed correctly, to his own surprise. Apparently he still knew Andros well, despite his doubts. That out of the way, he requested access again, and the playback began. He watched. 

 

The first thing he saw was himself, morphed and lifeless in the stasis tube, and his heart clenched. He watched Andros enter the room, again and again. Talked to Zhane, sometimes, holding half a conversation with the silence. Other times, he would just cry, deep, wracking sobs until he wore himself out and went quiet. The timestamps on each clip got further and further apart, until it became apparent that Andros had stopped going to that part of the ship altogether.

 

He watched Andros go on missions by himself and return, battered and bruised. Watched him patch himself up in the infirmary since he had no one else to do it for him. Watched him argue with DECA during briefings, heard the AI explain to him over and over that the things he had planned were too dangerous, and why. Heard him overrule those concerns and go anyway, every single time. He watched Andros dial down the safety protocols on the Simudeck and train until he bled. Watched him drag himself to his quarters and fall into bed, exhausted, only to wake up screaming shortly thereafter. Sometimes it was his sister’s name. Sometimes it was Zhane’s. 

 

He started staying up later, avoiding sleep until he couldn’t help it. He’d go to the bridge at odd hours and watch the video chip of his sister’s abduction, night after night. As time wore on and his nights got later, he’d follow that up with footage from the invasion of KO-35. DECA reminded him that there were sedatives stocked in the infirmary. Andros flatly refused them.

 

More recently, he watched Andros meet the Earth Rangers for the first time. Saw him shut them down, dismiss them, and try to send them away without a second thought. Saw him grudgingly turn over the morphers and smiled at the sight of him basically stumbling over his new team, struggling to acclimate  after being alone for so long. Zhane watched him hide from them, carefully concealing the things that would make them worry. Turned the settings on the Simudeck back to normal. Checked the soundproofing in his quarters. Locked the room where the stasis tube was. He kept to his rituals and only slipped up once, the mistake that allowed Carlos to follow him when he - foolishly, irrationally - struck out on his own in search of his sister. He saw Andros storm off from the rest of the team after Carlos got injured, and the rage Zhane saw in him then was unlike anything he’d witnessed from his friend before. Andros composed himself just enough to update DECA’s programming, lock everyone else out, and struck out on his own again. And he’d left it that way, Zhane thought in dismay. He claimed to have learned his lesson, said he’d let his team help him from then on, but he’d still left DECA’s programming the way it was. 

 

He understood, now. The knowledge brought him no comfort.

 

“What do you think you’re doing?”

 

Zhane whirled at the sound of Andros’ voice and saw him standing there, wound as tightly as a spring and just as ready to snap. Never mind that Zhane had been looking for him all afternoon, it was just his luck that Andros would choose this particular moment to reappear. 

 

“You’re spying on me?” Andros continued, answering his own question as he stomped closer to Zhane. “You second-guess how I fight, talk to the others behind my back, and now you’re spying on me. Some friend.”

 

“Hey!” Zhane snapped back, finally recovering enough to mount a response. “First of all, I didn’t go behind your back. Second, maybe I wouldn’t need to do things like this if you would just talk to me about what’s been going on with you.”

 

“There is nothing ‘going on with me.’”

 

“Don’t think you can stand there and lie to my face, Andros! If that was true, why were you so keen to keep me out of those files? Why would you be hiding all of this from us? We’re supposed to be your teammates, the people you trust with your life! I’m supposed to be your best friend! Do you remember when you and I didn’t have any secrets from each other? Whatever happened to that?”

 

“Like you can really stand here and talk about trust when you’re the one who--”

 

“Don’t try to turn this back on me!” Zhane was toe to toe with Andros now, raising his voice to match as he cut him off. “This isn’t about me, it’s about you. You aren’t taking care of yourself, and it's putting you, the team, and our whole mission in danger. TJ talked to me because he's worried about you. Everyone is worried about you, because they're your friends, and they care about you more than you seem to care about yourself. And I'm even more worried about you than they are, because I'm the only one who knows how different you were back before all of this. You mean everything to me, and it scares me to see you like this. So be mad at me if you want, that's fine, but I'm not gonna let you keep ignoring it. You can't keep pretending you're okay when I know you're not!”

 

Andros punched him in the face.

 

Unprepared, unbalanced by the sudden force of it, Zhane stumbled back a step and toppled onto his backside. He pressed his palm to his now throbbing cheek and looked up at Andros, stunned. Had that really happened? No matter how heated things got between them in the past, they had never come to blows before.

 

“Did you just…?”

 

Andros didn't answer, just stood there looking utterly horrified, fist still clenched and trembling. He took a step back, then another, then turned and bolted from the room. Zhane swore, scrambled to his feet and ran after him. No way in hell was he going to let Andros disappear on him again, not now.

 

Fortunately, he was just fast enough to keep Andros in sight as he tore across the ship, tracked him to the now disused cryo-stasis room - of all places - and saw the door close behind him. Zhane checked the lock, guessed the passcode again, and let himself in.

 

With the equipment turned off, the room was dark and eerily quiet. Zhane could hear Andros’ harsh breathing and, treading carefully, followed the sound to its source.

 

He found Andros on the far side of the stasis tube, sitting on the floor, his back pressed against the machine’s base, his knees drawn up to his chest. Without a second thought, Zhane sat down next to him. Andros noticed his presence and made an audible but ineffective effort to regulate his breathing. He was crying, Zhane realized, and trying hard not to.

 

His own eyes stinging, his throat wordlessly tight, Zhane scooted closer and laid a hand on Andros’ shoulder. And that was all it took. Andros crumbled under the touch, turned toward Zhane and collapsed against him, sobbing. He pressed his face into Zhane’s shoulder, muffling the sound. His fingers curled into the fabric of Zhane’s jacket.

 

Zhane didn’t know what to do with himself at first. All he wanted to do was help, but he wasn't sure how, or even if he could. At the very least, he wanted to not make things worse. He had never seen Andros like this before, and he didn't know how to handle it.

 

At a loss for other ideas and even more of a loss for words, all Zhane could think to do was hold on. He wrapped his arm around Andros’ waist, steadying and supporting him. His free hand ended up buried in Andros’ hair, stroking the nape of his neck. Andros made no move to stop him, so he kept it up. It didn’t feel like he was doing enough, but it did feel like he was doing something.

 

He couldn’t fix Andros. Couldn’t erase any of what he had been through. What he could do was choose to stay with him through the worst of it, however long it took.

 


End file.
